


Teacher and Student

by Cantatrice18



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: AU, Discovery, Elemental Magic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of 14, Elsa power grows too great for even her father to ignore any longer. Reluctantly, he sends for a sorceress with enough skill to teach his daughter control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beginning

The messengers had come to the kingdom of Mirenna, but their presence had been unnecessary. She’d felt it when the girl’s magic had first spiraled out of control. She’d known from the moment Elsa of Arendelle was born that she might someday be needed, though she’d hoped the girl would learn control on her own. She was not as young as she once was, and training someone with natural-born magic was taxing to say the least. But the outbursts of power had worsened, the magic’s strength increasing, not stabilizing as time went on. When the messengers finally found her, hidden away in the high, stone cliffs that bordered Mirenna’s desert, her few possessions were neatly packed and loaded onto her swaybacked horse. She hadn’t even let the messenger finish reading the King’s missive before mounting up and riding away briskly down the rocky trail, the messengers following as best they could over the rough terrain. She herself knew exactly where she was going; she’d dreamed of Arendelle for months, had seen every twist and turn of the journey in her visions. Once on flat ground, she increased her pace and turned her mount to head north. There was no time to lose.

 

“My Queen and I thank you for coming all this way. I apologize for the trouble it may have caused you, but we’ve been led to believe that you are the only person who can help with the…” the King of Arendelle met his wife’s eyes as he searched for words. “The situation our daughter is in.”

“It’s no trouble,” replied the old woman in front of them briskly. “Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to seek help for her.”

The King and Queen exchanged glances once more. “We believed discipline and control of her emotions, combined with an atmosphere of quiet and isolation, would be enough for her,” said the Queen. “But I’m afraid it’s just made her—“

“Stronger,” the woman finished. Her gnarled fingers gripped the wooden staff she always carried. “Yes, I’d noticed. Well, better late than never. Where is the girl now? We start her lessons immediately.”

“Now?” asked the King, surprised. “But it’s nearly ten o’clock, she’s probably asleep already!”

The woman closed her eyes, searching for the beacon of magic that had guided her to the castle. It lay in the upper stories of the east wing, pulsing with energy intermittently. “She’s not asleep. And the sooner she learns of my plans for her, the better.”

Without another word, she turned her back on the pair of royals and proceeded down a corridor in the direction of the magic. She smiled slightly in satisfaction as she heard footsteps behind her. The King and Queen had chosen to face their daughter after all.

When she reached a white door painted with blue flowers, the woman stopped. Even outside she could feel the chill emanating from the room. Raising a fist, she knocked crisply on the door of the room. There was no answer from inside. Frowning, the King himself knocked, calling quietly to his daughter. “Elsa, come to the door please. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

A moment’s silence met their ears, then the soft sound of footsteps and the rustle of skirts let them know Elsa had heard. Metal scraped as the door was unbolted and the doorknob turned as the door slid open a few inches, revealing a girl of about fourteen. She was incredibly pale, her white-blonde hair braided into a plait from which a few tendrils had escaped to frame her face. Her eyebrows arched gracefully over large blue eyes, which at the moment looked nervous. She glanced from her parents to the newcomer with trepidation, not speaking a word. The old woman gave her no more than a perfunctory glance before turning to the King. “Have you a place where we may work without interruption?”

The King nodded. “There is my study, if that will do. The servants know not to disturb me there unless I call for them.”

“That will do perfectly.” Jerking her head at Elsa to follow, she set off after the King towards the staircase that led to one of the towers. 

Once they reached the study, the King and Queen took their leave, closing the door behind them. There was a long silence as the girl and the woman surveyed each other. Finally, the old woman spoke. “I imagine you’ve guessed why I’m here.”

Elsa nodded hesitantly, her eyes downcast. “You are here because of me. Because of this magic I have.”

She spoke the word ‘magic’ in a hushed voice, as though admitting some dreadful secret or failing. The woman frowned. “Naturally. You need training in it. I should have been here sooner, but your father thought it best to try other means of preventing your outbursts first.”

Elsa closed her eyes. The woman saw that she was trembling slightly, and noticed that the room had grown a good deal colder. Frost was forming on the windows. “I’ve failed, then,” the girl whispered. “They’ve given up all hope of me controlling it.”

“Not at all,” the woman replied calmly. “In fact, quite the opposite. I am here to teach you control in a way that allows your powers to grow and bloom safely.”

“Grow?” Elsa asked, her voice breaking. “Stronger than they already are? Oh, please, not that. I could not stand it if this grew worse.”

“You have little choice in the matter, I’m afraid. But it’s nothing to be frightened of. Your sorcery is a gift, albeit a double edged one. There is no reason you cannot learn to control it and use it for good.”

“You don’t understand!” cried Elsa, her eyes darting around at the snow that had begun to fall indoors. “I’ll hurt someone, the ice will break free of me and I’ll kill someone, my sister…” Bitter cold wind had begun to whip through the room, scattering papers off the king’s desk. “How could you possibly know how to stop it?”

The woman did not glance away from the girl in front of her. “How could I know? I’ll show you how.” 

Raising a hand, she snapped her fingers. Immediately a roaring fire sprang up in the fireplace, consuming the kindling in a flash. Elsa was so surprised that the snowflakes stopped in midair. The fire was reflected in her wide eyes for a brief moment until she turned back to the woman. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “My name is Sahar Maytal. I’m here to help.”


	2. The first lesson

It was nearly midnight when the pair finally left the King’s study. Elsa was yawning widely, but her eyes sparkled with a fierce hope. Sahar had explained that control of magic did not mean suppression, but rather guidance. Her powers were to be trained, not hidden, and Sahar had promised the girl that, if she worked hard and all went well, she would one day be able to leave the castle and roam freely through the village and beyond. Sahar escorted Elsa back to her room and made her way to the guest quarters, but lay awake until dawn, thinking. 

Sahar was waiting for Elsa when they girl arrived after breakfast. She’d consulted with the royals and they’d agreed to let her use one of the castle’s unused sitting rooms for a classroom. It had been cleared of all furniture, even rugs and wall paintings. Despite the emptiness, there was still something cheerful about the carved wood of the beams overhead and the bright enamel that traced the many carvings on the walls. The morning sun filtered through the green leaves of the trees outside, casting dancing shadows over the wood floor. The hearth was laid out with logs and kindling, but the summer day was warm enough that it wasn’t needed. Sahar was sitting cross-legged on the floor with her staff resting across her knees when the young princess entered. Rather than get up, she motioned for Elsa to sit across from her. After a moment’s hesitation, Elsa obeyed, tucking her long blue skirts around her in a graceful motion. Sahar took a moment to examine her charge in the light of day. The girl was well on her way to becoming a heart breaker, with those big eyes, button nose and rose-colored lips. She was slim, her limbs long and elegant. Still, there was a wariness about her, a nervous energy that showed itself in the quick darting of her gaze and the slight trembling of her hands as they lay clasped in her lap. Sahar frowned as she stared at the girl’s hands. “Gloves? In this weather?”

Elsa quickly moved her hands out of sight. “It’s…they help me, you see. My power doesn’t break free as much when I wear them.”

Sahar pursed her lips. “Is that so?” She’d never heard of cloth preventing magic, but she supposed it was some fool idea of the King’s, just like isolating the girl from anyone who might help her. “Well, you won’t need them in here. Off with them, and set them over there by the fire.”

“But,” Elsa protested, clutching the gloves like a favorite baby blanket. “I can’t be without them. What about the magic?”

“What do you think these lessons are for, girl?” asked Sahar tartly. “If you say those gloves limit your magic, you’ll have to take them off before we begin working. Go on now, off with them.”

Slowly, Elsa did as she was told. Once she’d removed the gloves, she tucked them quickly into the pockets of her dress. Seeing the frightened look in the princess’s eyes, Sahar decided not to comment on it. Instead she called Elsa’s attention to the way they both were sitting on the floor. “The first step in your training is to calm your mind. That means freeing it from all restraint, as well as all distraction. Only then will you really be able to examine your power. Close your eyes and breathe in deeply…that’s it…now exhale slowly, letting all the air out until you have nothing left…good. Again, breathe in…” She led the girl in breathing exercises for another ten minutes before falling silent. Without her aid, Elsa continued to breathe in the pattern. “Good. Now I want you to think about your body, every inch of you from the crown of your head down to your toes. Feel your body at rest, don’t try to change anything.” She waited a moment to allow Elsa time to think. “Got it? Now, I’d like you to think about your magic. Where do you feel it within you? Is it in your hands, or your head? Do you feel it low in your belly, or perhaps down in your feet, moving upwards?”

Elsa frowned slightly, but her breathing did not falter. “My heart, I think. No, not exactly.” With one hand, she gestured to her breastbone. “There. In the center of my chest. I always feel it there first.”

Sahar nodded sagely. “Good. I’m glad you’ve noticed before where that sense of magic begins. It is vital that you understand the source of your power. You may open your eyes.”

Elsa did so, blinking in the bright morning light that filled the room. Sahar rose to her feet, using her staff to help herself up, and went to a small pile of goods that lay near the hearth. She returned bearing a plain silver bowl half full of water. Setting it down in front of the princess, she resumed her seat so that the bowl lay between them. “Freeze this for me, if you can.”

Stretching out a hand, Elsa touched the bowl with one finger. Immediately the surface of the water was covered with ice and frost flowers bloomed on the metal. Elsa inhaled sharply and drew back. Sahar leaned forward, closing her eyes and tapping the side of the bowl with one finger. A moment later she snorted. “Sloppy. You’re out of practice, girl, either that or you’re careless. Which is it?” When Elsa only looked at her in bewilderment Sahar shoved the icy bowl forward. “It’s inconsistent. The surface and sides froze, but the center didn’t. If a lake froze like that any skaters would get a cold, unpleasant surprise. Ice that isn’t solid the whole way through is more prone to flaws and cracks, making it useless for anything but putting into drinks.”

Elsa was staring at the bowl. Without Sahar’s bidding she reached out and cupped a hand around the base of the bowl. “You’re right,” she murmured, and closed her eyes. Frost bloomed once more, but when the power faded Elsa had not flinched away. She pushed the bowl to Sahar again for inspection. Sahar smiled as she ran a hand over the hard, icy surface. “That’s more like it. Now…” letting her power flow through the metal of the bowl, she watched the ice shrink and melt into nothing. “Let’s try this again from the beginning.”


	3. The first lesson (part 2)

They stopped when Sahar could see Elsa tiring. A servant had left a tray of food outside the door of their classroom, and Elsa brought it to the still seated Sahar. The old woman noticed that Elsa looked both ways before stepping out of the room to pick up the tray, as though checking to make sure no one was watching. When Elsa rejoined her, Sahar decided that there was nothing for it but to broach the subject directly and without frills. “You’re scared of the servants, then. Why?”

Elsa glanced at the door, now firmly closed. “I’m not afraid of them. I’m just not allowed to see them, and they are not allowed to see me. If we do run into each other, it’s always awkward. They’ve been instructed not to speak to me.”

Sahar frowned. “Whatever for? It’s not as if you’ll turn them to ice with a mere word.”

“My father believes otherwise. He knows how my powers get away from me, how I lack discipline, and he seeks to protect his people from harm. I cannot blame him for trying to protect others.”

Despite her words, Sahar noticed that one of Elsa’s fists was tightly clenched around the fabric of her skirt, which had a haze of frost over it that the dressmakers had certainly not included in their designs. Clearly, Elsa did blame her father for her own isolation. As well she should, thought Sahar bitterly. Locking the girl away, treating her like a pariah in her own house, honestly. She spoke none of these thoughts aloud, however, and the pair lapsed into silence as they ate. It was only when Elsa had finished and was pouring herself a cup of tea that Sahar broke the stillness. “So you’ve been isolated like that your whole life?”

“Not entirely,” replied Elsa softly. “There was a time when I was free to roam about the castle and play like any other child. I was only shut away after…well, when I was five.”

“Your sister, she’d have been about three years old, then? And you are telling me that in all this time you’ve never once broken the rules and gone to see her?”

Elsa’s knuckles were white as she held on to the saucer; the tea had a thin sheet of ice on its surface. “No, not ever! I must not see people, for their own safety, particularly not Anna. If she…” Elsa’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “If I hurt her again, I couldn’t bear it. It’s better that she forget all about me.”

Sahar thought back to the energetic redhead she’d seen racing through the corridors that morning. Princess Anna seemed carefree enough, but the way she’d slowed outside her sister’s door made Sahar wonder just how cheerful she really was. “I don’t think that’s possible. From the way you speak of her, I would imagine the two of you were very close once. What happened?”

“What happened?” Elsa’s voice was cold with anger, but Sahar could tell that it was not directed at her. “This happened!” Elsa threw out an arm and instantly the nearest window was covered with icicles that rose like stalagmites from the sill and around the panes. “This awful magic, this winter inside of me consumed everything. Anna barely survived my magic back then, and it’s grown tenfold since that night. She must never be allowed to see the monster I’ve become!”

“You are not a monster, Elsa,” Sahar said calmly.

“How would you know?” Elsa cried, leaping to her feet. Panic laced her voice now as the room filled with icicles. “How could you possibly understand what it feels like to destroy everything you love?”

“Enough.” Sahar snapped her fingers. Immediately a fierce, hot wind swept through the room, melting the ice and knocking Elsa to the floor. Sahar stood and walked over to the fallen girl. “You think you are a destroyer, that your powers make you a monster fit only for captivity? Think again.” Closing her fist, she opened it to reveal a globe of orange flame. She held it out to show Elsa, who shrank away. “Ice melts, girl. Your mistakes can be undone. Fire destroys everything in its path, leaving only charred remains, yet I have tamed it. If I can conquer fire, you can most certainly conquer ice.” She closed her fist once more and the fiery globe disappeared. “Your friends and family can be kept safe in other ways, ones less damaging to you than solitary confinement.” She reached out her (now empty) hand to Elsa and the girl took it hesitantly, as though expecting it to burn her. When it did not, she leaned her weight against it and allowed Sahar to help her up. 

The two faced each other, Elsa staring at the floor, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m…sorry,” she murmured, but Sahar shook her head. “There is no need for apologies. You are young. Your life has been hard, but change is coming. It does no good to dwell on past mistakes, not when there is so much to be learned.” Taking the girl’s hand, she led her back to the center of the room. “Now, if you’re feeling strong enough to freeze the walls, you’re strong enough to have more lessons.”


	4. A meeting with the King

The days of summer waxed and waned as Elsa’s lessons continued. The royals had promised her free rein, but Sahar still wondered how they’d react to their daughter’s magical education. Finally, after a successful day in which Elsa had managed to freeze only the items within a circle drawn on the floor of the classroom, Sahar decided it was time to face the King once more.

 

“You’re sure about this?” the King asked, his face a mask of concern. “She hasn’t gone out in, oh, I don’t even know how long.”

“About a decade, I’d imagine.” Sahar’s sharp eyes were fixed on the King, with none of the warmth in them that she reserved for Elsa. “Unless you intend her to live the rest of her life trapped in this jail of a castle, I suggest you rethink your policy regarding her captivity.”

The King stiffened in anger. “These precautions have been taken for her own safety, as well as that of others. And she has agreed to the measures – we are not holding our daughter prisoner.”

Sahar sighed. “Elsa is afraid of the outside world. It is her fear of people, of being seen as a monster, which prevents her from discovering the very things that will help her gain control over her power. Her magic is tied to nature – the snow covered evergreen trees and the high, icy mountain peaks call to her. She must be allowed to experience them firsthand, in order to gain understanding and perspective. Not only that, but she will be able to explore the larger, more ostentatious aspects of her magic without fear of being seen. I am afraid I must insist upon it. There is no other way.”

The King’s expression had softened, but he still looked worried. “I suppose we must trust your instincts. Goodness knows we failed when we tried to keep her powers at bay. I don’t know what we’ll do if she cannot learn control. What kind of future could she possibly have?”

Sahar laid a firm hand on the ruler’s shoulder, choosing not to mention that Elsa was outside the door, listening at the keyhole. “She’ll learn, sire. She’s a smart girl, and more importantly she’s been blessed with as true and selfless a heart as I’ve seen in all my years. Have faith in her, and she won’t disappoint you.” 

The King nodded a dismissal and turned away from her. Sahar walked to the door, pausing for a second before turning the handle. When she walked into the hallway she spotted Elsa sitting serenely on a velvet covered bench and reading, her posture exquisite. Only a close observer would have spotted the slight traces of tears on her pale cheeks, or the tendrils of frost that marched their way forlornly up the spine of the book she held in her white-gloved hands.


	5. Snow

It was after midnight when the castle’s gates, rusty with disuse, creaked open to reveal two cloaked figures on horseback. The horses’ hooves were muffled, creating dull thuds as they struck the cobblestone. Sahar had refused any escort, saying that privacy was essential as a part of Elsa’s training. Accordingly, the two set out away from the gates alone. Sahar led the way towards the edge of the city and into the hills, with Elsa at her side. The princess had not spoken since leaving the protection of the castle walls, but a blanket of frost trailed behind her, signaling to any that knew her that she was afraid. Sahar did not comment upon her charge’s misgivings, but sent a surge of heat into the ground every so often to mask their trail. It would be no good if their training sessions were interrupted by a nosy peasant with too much time on his hands. 

Onward they rode as the sun rose high into the cloudless sky, up and up until the wind turned cold and patches of snow became visible on the ground. Only then did Sahar turn to examine her young companion. Elsa’s pale cheeks had become flushed with color, her eyes sparkling as she breathed in the cold air. She looked more alive than Sahar had ever seen her. Their journey brought them higher and higher, until they were at the base of the formidable North Mountain. Snow lay in drifts around them, the product of early autumn storms. When Sahar signaled for them to halt, Elsa did not even wait for permission to dismount. Leaping from her horse, she took a running start and dived into a snow bank, letting out a yell of pure pleasure as she sank beneath the icy powder. Frowning, Sahar made her way carefully through the snow and tugged at Elsa’s arm until she was standing once more. Though Sahar had to wade through the piles of snow, Elsa appeared to be floating upon it. She did not protest as Sahar led her away from the snow bank, but appeared to be entranced by the wintry scene surrounding her. Sahar called her back to reality with a quick tap on the head, courtesy of her long wooden staff. “Come now, girl – it isn’t as though you haven’t seen snow before.”

“But so much of it,” Elsa exclaimed breathlessly. “I haven’t been allowed to feel snow in years, except the kind I make myself on accident.”

Shaking her head and muttering about the folly of the ungifted, Sahar led the girl to a spot next to some large boulders. “We will set up camp here. The rocks will provide some shelter from the wind, at least. Grab the largest packs from my horse, the ones with the blue rawhide ties, and bring them to me. We’d best get started – the sun sets in about an hour, and I don’t want to be left wandering around in the dark.”

The first stars were just starting to show as the two travelers crawled into their small tent. Sahar set up their bedrolls and lay down upon hers. As she closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her, she heard a voice humming an aimless little tune. Rolling over, she saw that Elsa sat awake by the tent flap, her hands reaching out towards the snow and a blissful expression on her face. With a last, satisfied smile Sahar drifted off to sleep.


	6. An odd friend

Sahar woke at dawn, as was usual for her. She expected to have to wake the young princess, but to her surprise the bed beside her was empty. She felt a twinge of worry – what if the girl had wandered off on her own and gotten hurt? There was no telling just how long she’d been gone. Hastily throwing on a few layers of clothing, Sahar pushed aside the tent flap with the end of her staff and waded out into the snow. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she realized she needn’t have worried. Elsa was putting the finishing touches on one of several snowmen that now surrounded the tent. When she saw Sahar come out of the tent she stopped, racing over to her teacher with light steps that made barely a mark on the snow. “Come see, come see!”

“I can see perfectly well from here, thank you,” Sahar remarked as Elsa tried to drag her towards the snowmen. “Did you get any rest at all?”

“Some,” Elsa said with a guilty expression. “But I couldn’t sleep. The sky was awake, and the snow was all around just begging me to come and play with it.” 

“You’ll find that life goes a lot easier for you if you can resist that begging and only go play when you choose to.” Sahar paused, thinking back to her own days as a student. “Of course, that’s easier said than done. And I think, all in all, that it is better for you to give in to your desires at the moment. You can’t possibly hope to control something you’ve never truly experienced.”

She wasn’t at all sure if what she’d said made sense, but Elsa seemed to understand. Her tugging on Sahar’s sleeve became more insistent as she looked back at her creations. “Look what I’ve made.” Giving up on her attempt to drag Sahar into the snow with her, she ran over to the largest of her snowmen, which stood nearly as tall as her shoulder. “I made a friend!”

With a gleeful look, she rested a palm on the snowman’s head. Immediately the creature sprang to life. With a slight twitch, perhaps to get rid of excess snow, he waddled forward clumsily on two stumpy legs. Sahar watched with astonishment as her student danced around the tent, accompanied by her new ‘Friend’. Never, in all her days, had Sahar seen anyone bring life to something inanimate in quite this way. Other magicians and sorcerers would create a double of themselves, often meticulously accurate in appearance, to take their place in cases of great danger. Elsa’s creation served no such purpose, and it moved without her bidding. She was not controlling its actions, as evidenced by the snowball fight she and the creature were having. Sahar wondered just how far this aspect of Elsa’s power could go. Gritting her teeth, she added “bringing life” to the long list of things she needed to work on with Elsa. She halted the fight by catching a wayward snowball and turning it instantly to steam. “If you’ve quite finished, I think it’s about time you were dressed and ready to learn.” She paused, hearing a slight growling noise from Elsa’s direction that was echoed by her own stomach. “But first things first— breakfast. Allow your friend go back to being a pile of snow for now, and let's eat.”


	7. Walking on Water

“Are you sure? It doesn’t look very safe.”

“So make it safe.” Sahar and Elsa stood on the edge of a small mountain pond, already half frozen in anticipation of winter. “You can make ice appear from your hands, your feet are no different. You said yourself that your power is centered near your heart; find that power and send it downward through the water to form ice that you can walk on.”

“And if I fail?” Elsa’s voice shook slightly, but her jaw was set in such a way that Sahar could not doubt her courage.

“If you fail, you fail,” replied Sahar simply. “Understanding and controlling your abilities is a long process full of failures along with successes. But in case you’re wondering if I’ll sit back and watch you drown, the answer is no.”

Elsa blushed and looked down, but the tension was broken. With a single, slow step Elsa moved out onto the water. The ice that blossomed beneath her foot sent branches out to connect with the ice already on the shore, which strengthened in turn and extended farther and farther into the center of the pond. By the time Elsa reached the deepest point, the entire surface of the water was covered by a sheet of ice like frosted glass, below which could still be seen a few darting fish. Elsa smiled and turned to Sahar, who nodded in approval. “Good. Now we’re going to try something else.” Stepping to the very edge of the water, the old woman struck the ice with her staff. Immediately the area around the shore began to melt, trapping Elsa in the center of the fast receding ice. Sahar did not need to hear Elsa’s horrified cry to know that the girl realized her own peril all too well. Bursts of magic came from Elsa’s hands as she tried to keep the ice solid, each growing wilder and leaving trails of frozen spikes in its wake. The sky overhead darkened as snow descended in flurries, the wind whipping it to and fro. Finally, unable to stop the fear from overtaking her, Elsa’s magic spiraled out of control in one great burst. The moment Sahar felt it she withdrew all her heat from the pond, allowing it to freeze solid once more. When the snow cleared enough for her to see, she stepped onto the pond and walked towards the spot where Elsa had last been seen. Where before had stood one lone, frightened girl, there now stood a twelve foot tall tower of ice, the spikes that lined its sides over a foot long and clustered together in menacing groups. Searching with her magic, Sahar found that the tower continued down to the very bottom of the pond, the spikes reaching out all the way to the shore to secure the tower and keep Elsa away from the freezing depths. The top of the tower flattened into a little platform of sorts, on which huddled a frost covered Elsa. Sahar regarded her student sadly for a moment. “I’m sorry, Elsa. Really I am. I had to see what would happen to you under pressure, when you became truly afraid.”

“I lost control.” Though her sobs were muffled, they still seemed to echo through the bitter air. “After all we’ve worked on, I still couldn’t keep it in check. It just came bursting out of me!” She raised her tear-streaked face and met Sahar’s gaze with wild eyes. “It’s like I’m possessed by some evil demon, like it’s taking over!”

“It only takes over when it fears for your safety,” Sahar sighed. “I wanted to experiment with this out here, away from the castle, so that we could both learn together. Your power is unlike that of anyone I’ve met, but I guarantee you that it is not evil. On the contrary, if we were to anthropomorphize your powers I would say they’re more like an overeager guard dog, or a child that’s desperate to please. Elsa, your magic loves you. Take one look around and you’ll see. This,” she waved her hand to indicate the tower, “is the result of your magic trying to protect you from a threat. Had you truly been drowning, I have no doubt that your magic would have come to your rescue far faster than any human could. In order to achieve control of it, you have to understand its motivations.” Stepping forward, Sahar laid a hand gingerly on one long spike. “I noticed at the castle that when you spoke of feeling trapped, lonely, the ice you created was more like a coat of glass over everything. I imagine in its own strange way your magic is trying to create a castle of ice for you, in the hope that you will feel more at home there than in your real castle. When you are scared or angry, on the other hand, the ice forms spikes like these as though creating armor from thin air.”

Though she had not moved from her position atop the tower, Sahar saw that Elsa’s hand had shifted to finger a set of very nasty looking spikes on the platform edge. The ends were razor sharp, but the ice seemed unable or unwilling to hurt its creator. Elsa still said nothing, which Sahar hoped was a sign that she was thinking over the new concepts. Finally Elsa stood, not meeting Sahar’s eyes as she stepped off the platform. Where there had been thin air, there now was a graceful step created as two spikes lengthened and joined. More steps appeared as Elsa came down from her perch. When she was once again on a level with Sahar, the old woman pointed towards the hidden base of the tower that lay beneath the ice. Elsa knelt and examined it. Though her joints ached from the cold, Sahar lowered herself to sit beside her student. “I know it’s a hard thing to understand, when you’ve fought your magic for so long. But in your case, it might help to see your magic as a friend, not an enemy. After all,” she smiled lopsidedly, “one can never have too many friends.”

Elsa’s nod was painfully long in coming. When she spoke her voice was soft and hoarse from crying. “I think I understand better now.”

“There’s one other thing you have to know.” Sahar waited until she felt she had the girl’s full attention. “What I did here, trapping you and forcing you to act in fear, was done in hopes of learning more about the nature of your power. In my enthusiasm to see the extent of your abilities, I went too far. I am truly sorry for forcing you to experience such terror. You must know that you were never in any true danger – had it looked as if you were about to be hurt I was prepared to remove all traces of warmth from this entire mountain in order to keep the ice around you strong and secure. I swear to you that I will never put you in a position to be afraid of me again. Do you understand?”

Elsa said nothing, but Sahar felt a small hand in hers and she closed her eyes, satisfied. Elsa leaned against her side and the pair sat together on the frozen surface of the lake, listening to the sounds of nature around them. Finally, the sky began to darken and Sahar stood, helping Elsa up and turning towards the direction of their camp. “Enough of that sort of thing for today. I, for one, could use a warm meal.” They walked back up the hill, but as they crested it Sahar looked back once more at the icy tower. It had not changed a bit, despite the slight thawing of the natural ice around it. Sahar supposed she’d have to melt it down before they left, or some local was bound to stumble upon it and set up a hue-and-cry about demons and other nonsense. All the same, it was a shame to destroy such a striking display of young, wild magic at work. She comforted herself by remembering that, with Elsa as a student, there were bound to be more such works of art to come.


	8. The fire witch

That evening the pair sat together around a fire Sahar had conjured that required no wood to stay burning. Sahar had insisted upon Elsa getting rest and eating properly after her scare that afternoon, and so no other lessons had taken place. Even now Sahar watched the young princess closely as they sipped their tea. Though Elsa had forgiven her, Sahar still felt that the girl was distant and sad. After weeks of close contact with Elsa, Sahar knew better than to press her on a subject. She would come to it in her own good time. Accordingly, they passed the evening exchanging short sentences about the weather, the sky, and other bland subjects in between long periods of silence. Sahar had almost given up on getting an answer out of Elsa that night when she heard the girl take a deep breath as though rallying her courage to say something particularly important. When no question or comment was forthcoming, Sahar raised an eyebrow. “You had something to say? Ask, we’ll just have to keep waiting out here until you do. I can never go to bed with something left unsaid.”

“Alright, then.” Elsa looked embarrassed. “It’s nothing too important, I’ve just been wondering about when you were my age.”

“Well? What about it?”

“I just…” Elsa bit her lip. “I wondered, when you were my age, if your power ever got away from you like mine did today, and whether…”

“Whether it was for the same reasons,” Sahar finished for her. “Well, that’s a question that has several parts and several answers. I think I’ll start with the first question and move on from there to the second. Firstly, when I was your age I had already been studying magic for three years. I was lucky in many ways, for I come from a part of the world that does not automatically view magic with fear and distrust. I had a teacher early on to guide me, with whom I lived and studied for many years. The reason I was sent to that teacher answers the second part of your question. When I was six years old I burned my father’s home to the ground. I had heard the fire talking to me, asking me to take it from the meager hearth and feed it something better than dried up kindling. I carried it in my hands to my bed, intending to feed it some bread I’d saved from that night’s meal. I think you can guess what happened from there. When I was eight, some friends of my older brother decided to pick on me. They received third degree burns for their trouble. My skin was as hot as a furnace, and I had to be careful not to sit near anything too flammable or it could catch fire just from brushing against me. I forgot my caution on the eve of my ninth birthday. Among my people, the ninth year is one of great importance, especially for girls, and so everyone in the village was invited to my father’s house for a feast of celebration. They came in from the fields, singing about the glory of the harvest and the coming rains, and in the excitement of the moment I forgot myself, forgot who and what I was. I ran out to meet them, leaving a trail of flame behind me as the dry leaves of late summer ignited from my heat.” Sahar leaned back, looking up at the stars. “The fire burned for three days. Only the blessing of an early rainstorm kept the entire valley from catching fire. By the time the last embers were smothered, every field was blackened and barren. The crops for winter were destroyed, and it was only quick thinking on the part of my father that saved the entire village from destruction as well. He understood that the fire was drawn to me, and also that I had no fear of it. He asked me to go out into the fields, to stay with the fire and divert its course. Confused, frightened by the terror I saw in the faces of my friends and family, I did as I was told. The fire, sensing my own inner turmoil, raced to join me and comfort me in my distress.” Sahar smiled, but there was no joy in her eyes. “It has been many decades since I left my birthplace, but I hear legends from time to time of a plot of land, a mile long and half again as wide, on which no living thing will grow. It is on that stretch of land that I first experienced the joy and the horrible price of my magic. I returned to the village when my fire had burnt itself out to find myself an outcast. My father consulted the village headman, who told him that I should be sent away, either for proper schooling in the east or to the nearest magistrate to be tried for the crime of arson. Either way, I could not be allowed to remain in the village. I left my village four days after my ninth birthday. I have never returned.”

Sahar turned to Elsa, who looked stunned, her lips parted as she stared at her teacher. The old woman met Elsa’s eyes squarely, their gazes locked. “I have made many mistakes, have lost control many times during my youth. My power follows my emotions, just like yours, but is particularly drawn to anger and fear. At times I thought I would never learn enough to keep those around me safe. But learn I did, and through understanding came control.” She stood so abruptly that Elsa jumped. “Now, I’ve given you plenty to mull over. We have an early day tomorrow, and I’m going to bed. I suggest you do too.”


	9. Icharus

They remained on the mountain for the next three days, and in that time Elsa learned the breadth of what her power could do. Inspired by her accidental tower at the pond, Sahar set Elsa the task of constructing a temporary classroom for the two of them out of ice. As each part was finished Sahar would shout out new ideas for rooms, so that by early afternoon on the third day the pair had an eclectic mansion of sorts, with turrets sticking out weirdly and a maze of rooms both large and small. The tallest tower Elsa created was over 100 feet tall, and had a spiral staircase wrapped around the outside leading to the top. The upper platform was surrounded by crenelated walls, 4 feet in height, which were strong enough to lean against. From the tower the view was unobstructed, and they could see most of the North Mountain and its surroundings as well as a hint of chimney smoke from the nearest village 10 miles away. It was here that Sahar brought Elsa as the sun was slowly setting, its rays turning the snow into a riot of pinks, oranges and yellows. Elsa leaned against the tower wall with a sigh of contentment, looking out towards the mountain and the permanent sheath of ice that enveloped its peak. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

Sahar grunted. “Well, I don’t. Too damn cold if you ask me.” Elsa giggled, and she continued. “Besides, now you know that this place will always be here, if you should need an escape. And you can build a castle like this one anywhere with only a snap of your fingers.”

Elsa nodded, but her face fell. “I can’t make a castle again without people knowing, though.”

“No, you can’t,” said Sahar, “But there may come a time when hiding your power is no longer a necessity, or even an option. Who can tell when the future will bring?”

Elsa shrugged, and Sahar could tell that the princess did not believe her. Rather than belabor the point, the old woman turned to survey the surrounding land. To the right was a steep drop caused by shifting rocks; to the left, thick evergreen trees cast long shadows over the snow; straight ahead, however, the snow was clear of rocks and vegetation, looking like nothing more than a fluffy white blanket spread out over the earth. It was because of that empty field that Sahar had decided to try something unheard of. 

Snow was falling gently, the flakes drifting downward without a care in the world. Sahar caught one in her gloved hand and quickly held it out for Elsa to see before it melted. “Look here, at the way it’s structured. See the symmetry, the radial pattern from the center?” 

Elsa nodded, catching another snowflake and holding it before her eyes. “Each one’s different, no two alike.”

“Different, yes, but similar too.” Sahar countered. “Every one has the same basic structure, and it is that structure that allows snowflakes to move as they do. Their shape, combined with the wind’s power, keeps them airborne far longer than a drop of rain.” Elsa nodded seriously. “They are borne up on the wind similar to the way a bird takes flight, the angle of their surface determining how far and fast they go.” Sahar took a deep breath. “I believe you, too, are capable of creating this effect for your own motion. It appears to me, having seen the way your power manipulates both ice and wind, that it is something possible for you to attempt. However, I will not force you to do so; this is far beyond any magic I have seen or heard of, and it is merely a hypothesis…” 

She did not need to continue. Elsa had raced over to the wall to look out over the snowy field, her eyes feverish with excitement. “You can’t mean…do you really think I can fly?”

“I really do.” Sahar pulled her student away from the wall slightly so that more than mere inches separated their feet from open air. “I’d thought at first you might construct wings like a bird made out of ice, but now I do not think that is necessary. What I believe will work are thin, curved sheets of ice, created and released at the right time to catch the wind. It would be more like a kite than a bird.”

Elsa nodded enthusiastically. “I can do that, I’m sure of it.”

Sahar gave another quick glance at the snow one hundred feet below them. “Well, I’ll allow you to try it, but if you feel yourself falling there is a cushion of snow to catch you. Remember, I myself can’t help you with this – my magic does not control the air in any way.”

“I’ll be fine!” 

Sahar had never seen Elsa so enthused. Quickly the girl started conjuring sheets of ice in various shapes, debating which would be best. When she’d finally decided on the ones she liked, she took a running start and leapt gracefully from the top of the tower. For a moment it seemed as though the breeze had truly caught her, but then the wind shifted directions and she fell like a stone towards the snow below. She hit it with hardly a sound, sinking beneath the white powder as fast as if it had been water.

“Elsa!” screamed Sahar, staring at the place her student had last been seen. As fast as she could she raced for the stairs, dropping her staff and wincing in pain as she braced herself on the icy walls. She made it to the ground, panting, and staggered into the snow, still calling for Elsa with every breath. A few yards from the door her knees buckled and she knelt in the snow, staring around for any sign of Elsa. In the dimness of approaching dark, she did not see the figure approach until it was right beside her. She felt a hand on her shoulder and gasped, spinning around. There stood Elsa, grinning like the child she truly was. “That was amazing! We’ve got to try it again, we’ve just got to!”

Elsa tried three more jumps before Sahar insisted that they stop for the night. By the last one, Elsa was able to stay aloft for ten seconds, and her landing was far less alarming than on her first attempt. She assured Sahar that, given more time to practice, she’d be in complete control of her wings and able to fly anywhere with them. Shaking her head, wondering why she’d ever brought the subject up, Sahar ushered Elsa into the tent and blew out the lamp.


	10. Loss

After three days on the mountain, it was time to go home. Elsa lingered over every little bit of packing until Sahar threatened to melt all the snow around them. Only then did the girl help out, but she did so with a sense of tragic resignation. It would have been funny, Sahar thought as she watched Elsa tie the packs to one of the horses, were it not for the fact that Elsa really was returning to a life of sadness and captivity. She resolved to have another talk with the King when they got back to the castle.

The first hour of their journey was spent in silence, but by lunchtime Elsa’s mood had lightened up enough for them to talk. They chatted back and forth, Sahar telling a wide-eyed Elsa of her travels in the east. Sahar was just finishing a story about a farmer she’d met who’d been possessed by a water spirit when they heard rapid hoof beats approaching up the path. Sahar quickly pulled Elsa’s horse to one side of the road to allow the rider through, but to her surprise the rider stopped in front of them. His horse was sweat-streaked and covered in dust, and he himself looked no better. He was dressed in the palace livery, the royal crest of Arendelle embroidered over his heart. Sahar felt a strong sense of forboding – royal messengers were only used for matters of the utmost importance. Reaching down into one of her packs, she pulled out a canteen of water and passed it to the man, who took it gratefully. When he’d finished drinking he straightened up, turning to address Elsa. “Your highness, the Queen has sent for you to return home at once. The King has taken ill, and is asking for you.”

“Taken ill?” Elsa’s voice shook, and she was paler than ever. “What does that mean?”

“He collapsed in his study, miss.”

Now that Sahar took a closer look at the man, she saw he looked anxious and careworn. She dismounted and retrieved her canteen from him, replacing it in her pack as she shifted the bundles of belongings off of her horse and onto the side of the trail. “He collapsed when? Last night?”

The messenger nodded. “Working late in his study. It was a wonder anyone was around to hear him when he cried out, but luckily a servant was in the next room emptying out the grate. The doctors have been with him ever since.”

“I have to go.” Elsa’s voice was louder than she intended, and her eyes were fixed on the set of hills behind which stood Arendelle’s castle. “I have to hurry, to be there for him.”

Sahar had finished unloading her horse of its burdens. Now she gestured towards it, looking pointedly at the messenger. “Mr…?”

“Thomas,” the messenger replied. “Thomas Smythsson.”

“Thomas, then. You, Thomas, will take Elsa back to her home on my horse.” She held up a finger as he began to protest, which silenced him. “Your horse is in no condition to race around, particularly not with two riders. Mine is used to heavier loads and has had several days of rest. I will follow more slowly with the supplies and horses – you must get the princess home safely as soon as may be.”

After her speech Sahar allowed no argument. She helped Elsa down from her horse and settled her in front of Thomas on her own horse. Then, with one last glance at Elsa, she sent them on their way.

Sahar travelled slowly, camping alone for the night and journeying on the next morning. She knew the way back, and even if she hadn’t there was a trail of frost that had been left behind by Elsa’s passing. She considered melting the trail behind her, to avoid rousing suspicion, but by morning on the second day an early winter storm had blown in. The flakes rained down harder and harder as she approached Arendelle, and Sahar suspected she knew the reason why. Sure enough, as she approached the city gates she saw that the cheery flags that normally flew along the walls had been taken down. The gray stone battlements looked menacing, rather than inviting. As she guided her horse through the city she found it nearly deserted. The real answer came when she arrived at the gates of the castle itself. A massive black banner had been draped over the doors, and the guards wore black tunics beneath their armor. “Halt!” cried one, upon seeing her approach. “Halt in the name of the Queen.”

Sahar raised an eyebrow at him. “Which Queen is that, exactly?”

The guard looked annoyed. “Queen Elsa the Third of Arendelle.”


	11. Recovery

For two weeks after her father’s death, Elsa spoke to no one. The King had died of complications following a heart attack, according to his doctors, but he’d had time to speak with his eldest daughter and name her his successor before letting go. Elsa’s mother, Queen Lisanne of Arendelle, would act as regent and co-ruler until Elsa came of age. This was for the best, as Queen Lisanne already understood the running of the castle and household, and was able to organize the King’s funeral as well as proclamations of mourning to be sent throughout the kingdom. The royal messengers had had a difficult time leaving the city, however, as the snow storm had gotten worse, leaving some areas of the mountains difficult or impossible to pass through. Sahar knew that the source of the storm was Elsa, but she did not press the girl to control her power or suppress her emotions. Some emotions simply needed to run their course, and grief was one of those. 

Sahar knew, when the snowfall stopped, that Elsa was ready to speak once more. The old woman met her student in the hallway outside Elsa’s room, and the pair walked in silence to the classroom where they’d spent so many hours together. As Sahar closed the door behind them the noise from the rest of the castle died away and left them in their own private realm. 

Elsa sank to the ground, her skirts wrapping around her protectively and her white-blonde hair glinting in the few wintery rays of sunlight that filtered in through the windows. Sahar sat across from her, cross-legged with her staff across her knees, reverting to the same position she’d held during their lessons. She waited for the princess – now queen – to begin.

Elsa was staring around the room in a daze, as though not really seeing it. Her eye caught on the frost that covered the windows. She winced, and as she did so her eyes met Sahar’s. “It’s my doing, this storm. I know that, and I can’t help it. Not right now.”

“Good. At least you see that. And the storm is not your greatest concern at the moment. There are other things to occupy your thoughts.”

Elsa nodded. Her eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip and held them back. “My father…he spoke to me, before he died. He told me to control my power, for the good of the realm, and to do all I could to keep Arendelle safe. He told me—“ she broke off, taking several deep breaths before continuing. “He told me he trusted me. And then he was gone. It happened so fast. There was so much left to say, and he never got to see how much I’d learned.”

Frost had covered the wooden floor, creating flowery patterns up Elsa’s arms as though trying to turn her to ice to dull the pain. Sahar frowned at the ice, thinking. “Elsa, your father named you his successor. In the end, he accepted that you are more than a child with magic inside of her. He understood what you will become: a powerful leader with a kind heart and a cool head. He had faith in you, as do I, and knew that you could keep Arendelle strong.”

“But how?” asked Elsa, her voice rough from long hours spent crying. “I’m not a queen, I can barely keep myself in check, much less rule a country. And a queen has to be seen by everyone, she’s a public figure, I just can’t…” The tears that had threatened to overwhelm her broke through her control, freezing in the air as they fell. “I can’t let people see what I am. They’d hate me, fear me for it, and how would I rule over them fairly and justly then?”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Sahar’s voice betrayed no emotion. “You need not rule alone: your mother is here for the day to day matters, and she will act as a public face for the ruling family. Your advisers are there for a reason: to distill information and keep it from overwhelming you. As far as your power goes, I accept that you wish to hide it for now.” She sighed. “However, there may come a day when that is no longer an option. You will not be able to rule this country as a recluse. Accidents happen.”

“Not to me. Not anymore.” Elsa glared at her teacher as though daring her to argue. Sahar looked at her for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. Finally she nodded, using her staff to help her stand. Elsa scrambled to her feet as well, and followed Sahar to the window. 

The old woman pointed with her staff at a pile of snow several stories below. “Stop the snow.”

Elsa grimaced. “I can’t. You know that.”

“Not everywhere. Just that one spot. Divert all the rest around it. Use your knowledge of the winds and the flight of falling snow.”

Elsa reached out a hand that sparkled with light and made a flicking motion with her fingers. The snow parted, leaving a circular area free of new flakes. She smiled and Sahar could tell that the use of magic had calmed her. “Good,” the old woman said. “Now try two at once. Hold that place steady, and clear the area over the fountain to your left.”


	12. Overconfidence

Elsa worked feverishly for the next month, insisting upon more lessons even when she was exhausted. Sahar watched over her tirelessly, guiding her through exercises that worked on her precision as well as strength. The old woman noticed that Elsa began to enjoy her power more and more, throwing more magic into each exercise as if needing to prove herself. At last Sahar felt it was time to teach Elsa a lesson on the nature of power. She called the girl into their classroom one night after the servants had gone to bed. A cheerful fire was burning in the hearth, and Sahar gestured at it with her staff. “Put it out.”

With a casual wave of her hand, Elsa sent a shower of magical ice towards the fire. The flames did not falter. Frowning, she sent a stronger burst of power at it. The fire did not change.

“Put it out,” Sahar repeated, and Elsa scowled at her. “I can’t, you’ve done something to it. You’re strengthening it.”

“And if I am?” Sahar’s face was expressionless, her hand still outstretched to point at the flames. “Does it matter? Put it out.”

Elsa turned to the fire, glaring at it as though it had insulted her personally. Resting her hands over her heart, she drew out a globe of magic that shimmered blue. This she thrust towards the flames, pouring her strength into it even as it failed to extinguish the flames.

“Try harder,” Sahar urged, though she could see that Elsa had begun to sweat from the effort. The young queen clenched her fists, releasing bolts of pure magic at the fire, her aim growing wilder as each successive bolt failed. “Harder,” Sahar insisted, “They’re only flames.”

With a yell of frustration, Elsa threw all the magic she could at the fireplace. The room was, by now, completely coated in a thick casing of ice, but the fire crackled merrily on. Each time she faltered, Sahar urged her onward, until finally Elsa turned on her teacher, a glowing sphere of power still in her hand. ”You—“ she cried, her eyes wild with rage, and the ball of magic shot towards Sahar. Immediately a roaring sound filled the air. The tame fire had become a fiery cyclone that swept through the room in an instant, melting the ice and leaving the air hot and dry. Elsa covered her eyes as the fire appeared to consume the very room. For a long moment there was nothing but heat and the sound of Elsa’s panicked breathing, then the heat began to fade. Elsa opened her eyes to see the room as it had been before, with a small fire in the grate casting long shadows over the room. Sahar was standing, unmoved, the dim light making the lines and creases of her face stand out. She looked to be a hundred years old, yet full of strength. She gazed at her student sadly. “Elsa, you’ve grown arrogant. This is what happens when there are no other magic users around for you to work with. You think that the sheer force of your power allows you to do anything you’d like, that with it you are invincible. As you have seen, that is not true. What have you learned from this?”

Elsa stared at the floor, head bowed. “I am not the strongest. There are others with more power than me.”

“That is true, but it is not the most important lesson to take from this.” Sahar walked to the fireplace and gestured for Elsa to join her. “Look at this fire. What makes it burn?”

“Kindling,” Elsa replied, looking confused. “A spark to light it with, and fuel to make it burn.”

“Anything else?” When Elsa did not answer, Sahar pointed at the chimney. “It needs air. Without air, even the strongest fire cannot remain burning for long.” She took a step back. “If you had considered the vital element of air, you would have been able to do more than just throw raw power at the problem and expect results. A thick wall of ice, connecting firmly with the bricks of the fireplace, would have cut off air from the room. Add to that some obstruction of the chimney, and you have yourself an airless fire.” She pointed at the chimney once more. “Try it now, if you feel strong enough. Connect the wall of ice here,” she pointed at the left side of the fireplace, about a foot from the opening, “And here,” she pointed to the same spot on the right side.

Elsa meekly followed Sahar’s instructions, and when the blockade of ice was finished the fire dwindled down to embers and faded away. Elsa frowned up at Sahar. “But you were putting magic into it too, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Sahar admitted. “But even with my magic there, I could not have saved my fire without actively melting a hole through your ice. Magic may bend nature’s laws, but it cannot fully break them. My point to you is this: Had you used your mind instead of your power, you would have been able to overcome this obstacle, and with plenty of magic to spare. Often it is our choices that decide our success or failure, not our skill or strength. If you think, you will be a better magic user, a better ruler, and a better person.”

“I’m sorry,” Elsa whispered. “I didn’t…well, I didn’t think.”

“That’s alright.” Sahar put a firm hand on her student’s shoulder. “You will now. And you won’t forget what you’ve learned today any time soon.”

Shaking her head emphatically, Elsa let Sahar lead her out of the classroom and back to the residence.


	13. Queen's Council

Midwinter celebrations were just beginning when Arendelle received its first word of trouble. The old king had been dead for three months, but the country was still in mourning and even the gift-giving and public festivals could not entirely remove the melancholy that still permeated the nation. Meanwhile, at the royal castle, both Elsa and her mother the Queen Regent were faced with unpleasant new realities. 

 

“It isn’t entirely unexpected, your majesties,” The chief army officer, General Algren, looked almost embarrassed. “With the king’s unexpected death, and Queen Elsa’s youth and inexperience, Weselton feels that they can capitalize on our country’s transitional period to gain an upper hand in trade and politics.”

“But to go up thirty percent!” Queen Lisanne frowned worriedly. “We’ll have to take it, of course, even if it empties our coffers. Our people need the supplies, and winter has come so early…” She glanced at her daughter, who colored and looked intently down at the solid oak table. She and her mother were in the conference room, where the ruler met with their major foreign or military advisers. The walls were lined with maps detailing far-off reaches of the world, often with various colors of pushpins or miniature flags indicating trade routes. This room had been one of her favorites as a child, when she would hide under the long table and pretend it was a fortress. She’d never dreamed of sitting in her father’s carved chair and listening to reports from all over the kingdom. Back then it had just been another playground for her and, of course, Anna. She blinked, trying to remove the image of her sister from her head, and focused back on the meeting in time to hear the chief naval officer, Admiral Solberg, saying “…not just overland experts and imports. The Southern Isles have made similar demands, and have threatened to cut their import of furs entirely if their terms aren’t met.”

“They wouldn’t dare!” Queen Lisanne’s tone was outraged, but her hands trembled slightly as they clutched at the fabric of her skirt beneath the table. The advisers could not see such a thing, but Elsa had become more observant during her time with Sahar, and her mother’s response worried her. She knew enough from her schooling to know that the fur trade was vital to Arendelle’s economy. It was their largest export, followed by timber and luxury items like carved wood and incense. Higher prices on necessary goods like grain and winter supplies, combined with a loss of the Southern Isles as a major trading partner, could mean hardship for all of her subjects, and even starvation for the poorest. Elsa stood up suddenly, the action adding mere inches to her height, but it achieved its desired effect. The commanders turned to her respectfully. “This cannot be coincidental. Weselton and the Southern Isles trade extensively together, and each must know the demands the other is making. One opportunist I can accept, but two? No. Something is very wrong.” She turned to address a sallow, balding man in drab brown who had sat quietly as they others had presented their reports. “What do you think, Fastred Hildebrand?”

The man stood slowly, taking his time to think as the other men stared at him with a mix of annoyance, apprehension, and mistrust. Fastred Hildebrand was a foreigner, non-military, who had come into the employ of the royal house of Arendelle a decade earlier. He was the royal spymaster, and though little was known of his methods of operation he had a habit of getting information faster and more accurately than any of the legitimate military advisers. Now he surveyed the young queen with calm interest. “Well, your majesty, if it is a coincidence then it is certainly an unlucky one. But I too have reason to suspect there is more to it than that. Weselton has plenty of crops to export but, through poor business practices, has also managed to accrue a great deal of debt. They have more than enough reason to covet the riches of Arendelle. What’s more, I have reports of unrest within the royal family of the Southern Isles. Thirteen sons and only so many isles to go around. They’re desperate to get rid of some princes, and if they happen to lose them to conquest, so be it.”

“Conquest?” Admiral Solberg was outraged. “Nonsense, Arendelle is perfectly safe from that sort of thing. Our navy is one of the finest there is, our ships always manned and ready to sail at a moment’s notice.”

“And if they come by land, not by sea?” Fastred asked softly.

The group turned to look at General Algren, who shook his head. “Not a chance of it. No one comes over those mountains; they are too rough to travel, particularly at this time of year. No, Arendelle is perfectly safe on that front.”

Fastred shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I suppose you two know more about defense than I. Let us hope that you are right.”

The military officers looked markedly displeased, and Queen Lisanne clearly thought it high time that the meeting ended. She stood, acknowledging Fastred and the commanders. “We concede to your superior knowledge, and look forward to hearing more reports on the subject at a later date. For the time being, let us continue as we were and delay response to both nations regarding their trade demands.”

Her last words were clearly a dismissal, and the three men bowed and left. Elsa found herself staring at the map behind where they’d been, the one showing Arendelle and her neighbors. If the Southern isles attacked by sea, and Weselton by land… she shook her head. Her military advisers were right: there was a reason Arendelle had been so safe for so long. No one wanted to deal with the mountains or the strength of their navy. All the same, it took the sound of her mother’s voice calling her to get her to leave the room, and for hours afterwards her mind remained with the maps and little push pins that conveyed so much about her country and its future.


	14. Trouble brews

The winter dragged on. As the councilors had predicted, Weselton and the Southern Isles did nothing to decrease their trade demands to more reasonable terms. Queen Lisanne tried several times to send messengers to other kingdoms for aid. Some sent back polite rejections, while others did not respond at all. “Intimidated,” Sahar overheard one government clerk mutter to another as she passed. “Don’t want to get on the wrong side of Weselton or the Isles. Can’t blame them, though, can you?”

Sahar shook her head and kept walking. Elsa had been quieter the past few weeks, and it was obvious she was worried. Though her control remained steady, Sahar noticed that frost clung to her dress and hair as though trying to cloak her in its protection. 

Sahar was so preoccupied that she did not hear the sound of voices until she turned the corner. A man in a crisp blue uniform was arguing with a similarly dressed man in green, gesticulating violently even as his voice remained hushed. “Three weeks they’ve been gone now, and my two fastest ships along with them.”

“They must have run into a storm,” the man in green replied. Though his tone was soothing, Sahar saw that he was sweating. “This winter has been harsher than usual, perhaps—“ The man stopped as he spotted Sahar. He stiffened and bowed his head respectfully towards her, then took the officer in blue by the arm and led him firmly back down the hall towards the councilor’s chambers. Sahar watched them go thoughtfully. Missing ships were just another worry to add to the growing list of troubles plaguing the kingdom. She paused, closing her eyes. There was something else here, something…she smiled and tilted her head upward to see a sheen of frost along one of the ornate wooden beams that supported the peaked roof. The frost concentrated near the far end, where the beam connected to the wall, and Sahar turned to face the spot slowly. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to take eavesdropping so literally? I would have thought simply asking your advisers for reports would have been enough.”

There was a glint of silver and Elsa appeared, crawling out of the niche where she’d been hiding and dropping lightly from the beam to the floor. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Really.” 

“You just decided to emulate squirrels for the fun of it?” Sahar asked seriously, though her eyes were twinkling.

Elsa shrugged, her gaze flicking from beam to beam along the hallway ceiling. “I’ve always climbed things. I like heights, and when Anna and I were young we would play hide and go seek together. She could never find me when I hid up high, so I would always win. Then, once my powers broke free of my control…” She bit her lip and looked down. “I knew that nobody ever bothered to look up, and I would watch from above when I got the chance.”

“I see. But why did you resume your climbing today?”

Elsa scowled. “I couldn’t stand another meeting with the Master of Etiquette. Despite my assurances to the contrary, he seems convinced we will be having grand dinner parties and balls as a monthly event.”

“And so you hid.” Elsa nodded and Sahar sighed. “And by accident you heard more than you wanted to, I imagine.”

Elsa nodded again, looking as worried as Sahar had ever seen her. “Something is terribly wrong. Ships and messengers are going missing, our own trade connections are withering away; we are becoming more isolated by the minute. I am not sure whether our allies have all turned against us, or whether kingdoms like Corona have even heard from our messengers. The people are hungry, though not as badly as they would have been had we not given in to Weselton's demands. Even so, our shipment of grain is a week late. Our people need more food if we are to make it safely through winter. Who knows when spring will come?”

From the way she spoke, Sahar could tell that the young Queen doubted the storms would ever end. Sahar laid a firm hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Spring will come eventually. And when it does, there will be new challenges to face, as there always are. Do not worry about what you cannot control; find the things you can control and use them to your advantage.”

Elsa smiled wanly and was about to say something when they heard the sound of running feet coming down the hallway. The turned to see one of the castle message boys; he stopped in front of them, breathing hard. “Prin—I mean, Queen Elsa, there’s a strange ship from the Southern Isles in the harbor, and Admiral Solberg said you should come, that is, if you want to I suppose…” He trailed off, as Elsa was already gone, striding down the corridor at a near run with Sahar close behind.


	15. Ultimatum

The harbor mouth was crowded with vessels, from the large ships that conducted trade in warmer months to the tiny two-man fishing boats that locals used to catch their dinners. Set apart from the rest were docks belonging to the royal navy, where eight large frigates were anchored. The smaller, lighter ships had been sent up and down the coast to seek aid from Arendelle’s neighbors. Next to the frigates a ship with red and black striped sails had docked. Elsa recognized the royal colors of the Southern Isles. She moved swiftly through the crowds surrounding the new arrival, her guards lagging behind as people stopped them to ask questions about the ship. Elsa made it to the docks to find Admiral Solberg inspecting the ship from afar with a keen eye. The ship’s Captain was visible at the helm, but he had not come ashore, nor had his crew. Upon spotting Elsa, however, he called out commands to his men and a gangplank was lowered. The Captain waited until his crew assured him the plank was secure, then proceeded leisurely down it, stopping in front of the young queen. His nod to her was barely polite, and Admiral Solberg scowled. “State your name and business, sea captain. Your appearance here in Arendelle is highly unusual.”

The Captain smiled, revealing jagged teeth. “The name is Afton Giles. I come bearing greeting from his Royal Majesty, King Roderick the Fifth of the Southern Isles. He has heard of your woes and is willing to offer you all the supplies you’ll need to last out this winter in safety and comfort.”

Behind Captain Giles his crew were levering a huge pallet of goods off of the ship’s deck and onto the docks. Elsa could see crates of clothing as well as heating oil and flour. She turned to Captain Giles with a polite smile. “Arendelle thanks King Roderick for his generosity in helping our country in its time of need. Rest assured, we shall not forget such a gesture, and we shall—“

“Not so fast,” the Captain interrupted coolly, and there were audible mutters of displeasure from the crowd. “Much as our royal family would love to give our supplies to you as a gift, times have been hard on the Southern Isles as well. We offer you trade, since no one else seems willing to do so, but trade it must be. A fair exchange from one nation to another.”

“And how do you know so much about who has been trading with Arendelle and who hasn’t?” growled Admiral Solberg.

Captain Giles smiled at him condescendingly. “One hears rumors. Who knows when or how they start?” He turned back to Elsa and the arrogance in his gaze was palpable. “Well, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle? What say you?”

Before Elsa could speak Admiral Solberg tapped him rudely on the shoulder. “If you would be so generous as to tell our Queen just what the terms of trade are, then she would be more inclined to give you an answer.”

“Ah yes, the terms.” Captain Giles brushed off his shoulder where the Admiral had tapped it as though Solberg had dirtied it with his hands. “Well, given Arendelle’s current circumstances, the royal family has agreed to part with our supplies for a mere fifty-thousand.”

“Fifty thousand?” There was a collective gasp from the crowd and Elsa felt rage building within her. Clenching a fist, she took several slow deep breaths and allowed the feeling to subside. Luckily the falling snow had masked the frost that had appeared over her dress and hands. When she spoke her voice betrayed little emotion. “That is an exorbitant amount, I think you would agree, for what comes down to no more than a few months supplies at most.”

The Captain shrugged. “Take the offer or leave it, it makes no difference to me.”

Elsa glanced around and spotted Sahar and Fastred Hildebrand in the crowd. She turned back to the Captain. “If you would excuse me for a moment, I would like to speak with my advisers about the matter. It should not take long.”

“Take all the time you need.” Without even the smallest gesture of farewell the Captain turned and walked back up the gangplank, shouting orders to his crew.

“Pompous ass,” Elsa heard Admiral Solberg mutter, and the corners of her mouth shifted into a small smile. All good humor faded as she saw Fastred and Sahar approaching. The pair joined her and Admiral Solberg, both looking grave. She turned to Fastred first. “What do you think of this? What are their motivations?”

Fastred glanced calculatingly at the pallet of supplies. “They are looking for a fight. And they will get one, either now or later, when our treasury is exhausted and we can no longer buy food or weapons.”

“Our treasury is already exhausted.” Elsa jumped and looked around to see that her chief financial adviser, Heinrich Ackerman, had joined them. He bowed slightly to her and looked around at the others. “We cannot afford their demands, even if we wanted to. The treasury has slowly become depleted over the course of the winter. Even in the best of times, we would have had trouble meeting their demands.”

“So if we send the supplies back?” Elsa asked.

Admiral Solburg shook his head. “If we refuse they will take it as an insult and cut trade. What’s more, they will encourage their neighbors to cut trading ties with us as well.”

“Not that our neighbors need encouragement,” Ackerman said bitterly. “We’ve hardly heard a peep out of them this whole winter.”

“That may not be their fault.” Fastred’s voice was calm as the others looked at him in surprise. “It has come to my attention that our messengers may not have reached their destinations. The eastern mountain passes border Weselton, and the messengers we sent over that route have not returned. Likewise, at least three ships bearing requests for aid have gone missing. We can thank the Southern Isles for that, I would imagine.”

“It’s an atrocity, that’s what it is,” Admiral Solburg muttered. “Arendelle has always been peaceful.”

“Perhaps that is the reason why they target you now.” Sahar looked thoughtfully at the foreign ship. “They think peace has dulled your fighting edge.”

“Well, they are most certainly wrong!” 

The Admiral looked insulted, but Sahar paid him no heed. She was counting the frigates that lay anchored in the harbor. “Eight there, and how many others? Three have most certainly gone missing, but there are more out there who have not reported back. How can we be sure they too are not compromised? And if the fast ships are gone, what is left?”

The Admiral did not answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Elsa bit her lip and turned to Fastred again. “What if we take the supplies and refuse to pay?”

“They will regard it as a declaration of war,” Admiral Solburg shook his head. “We will be considered guilty of war-mongering, of breaking trading laws and worse. No country would come to our aid, in such an instance.”

“No country would aid you anyway,” Sahar remarked, leaning on her staff. “You’ve already made that clear.”

“It would allow us to survive the winter, would it not?” Elsa asked, looking around. “If we kept the supplies? And it would only speed up the inevitable. It seems to me that the Isles, and probably Weselton as well, are determined to fight us. One way or another, there will be war. At least this way our people will not starve.”

Fastred nodded, his dark eyes searching. “I agree, your Majesty. It is the only course of action left to us.”

The other advisers and Sahar nodded reluctantly. Sahar still felt there was something wrong, something they were missing, but she could not pin down what. Shaking her head, she followed Elsa as the girl made her way back to the foreign ship. Captain Giles was standing at the top of the gangplank looking down at her. “Well, girl? Made a decision yet?”

The soldiers at the dock growled at his insolence, and several swords were drawn, but Elsa held up a hand to quiet them. “Leave the goods here. Return to your master and tell him that when his demands are more reasonable, we will be happy to continue trading with the Isles.”

“You want a war then?” The Captain’s voice held notes of both surprise and amusement, and it grated on Sahar’s ears. “Well, on your head be it. Until we meet again, Elsa of Arendelle.” 

He shouted to his crew and in a moment the ship had pulled away from the dock, the ropes that had secured it neatly cut in two. The sight made Sahar even more anxious. Captain Giles had expected their response. That meant it was all part of the Isles’ plan, but if the Isles wanted Arendelle defenseless they would not have left the supplies behind. The answer came to her even as she felt the fire approach with her magic. “Down, everyone down, now!” She leapt towards her student and knocked her to the ground. The force carried them too far and the pair toppled over the edge of the dock and into the water. The cold was bone chilling, but Sahar barely felt it. She heard a boom echo through the icy water and the sound of muffled screams. If it were possible she would have kept the two of them underwater longer, but Elsa was tugging at her sleeve, struggling for air. Above them thick ice was reforming, a product of Elsa’s panic, but a touch from Sahar made it melt away. The old woman pulled the sputtering girl to shore, keeping a comforting arm around her shoulders, then surveyed the damage.

The pallet of supplies had exploded, its cargo of oils and compressed flour acting as a time bomb. No doubt the ship's crew had laid out the fuse as Elsa and her advisers had been debating what to do. The force of the explosion had blasted a hole in the hull of one of the frigates, which was now tilting dangerously as the hold filled with water. People were screaming – several dockworkers were badly burned though, Sahar was pleased to see, no one appeared to have been killed. The worst of the damage was right where Elsa had been standing. If Sahar had not acted as quickly, Elsa would almost certainly have been dead. The young Queen, realizing the same thing, leaned in closer to her teacher. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”

Sahar stroked her student’s hair. The reality of what had happened began to set in, and she sighed. “Oh, Elsa. Do you understand what this means?”

Elsa nodded. Tears mingled with the salt water, freezing as they ran down her cheeks, but she did not look away from the chaos on the docks. “It means we go to war.”


	16. On the Gallery

Three weeks had passed since the incident at the docks. In preparation for war, people from outlying villages had been trickling into the capital, carrying as many of their belongings as they could. Those with relatives in the city stayed with them, but most of the refugees had taken up residence in the castle’s great hall. Though the food supply was already low, Elsa insisted that the villagers be fed as much as could be spared. She had taken to having simple meals brought to her only twice a day so that the castle cooks could focus on the refugees. As Sahar surveyed the displaced villagers from the gallery that surrounded the great hall, she wondered whether the Queen’s supplies would be enough. Many of the refugees were skin and bones, starving after a long winter with little food. There were a disturbing number of children as well, their haunted eyes staring blankly around as the adults set up camp in the castle. Sahar sighed, but stopped as she caught a glimpse of a lone figure standing in the shadows. Elsa was wearing black, her shining silvery hair tied back in a severe bun. From her position she could see all that went on in the hall below, and her brow was furrowed. Though her control on her powers was better than it had ever been, Sahar’s sharp eyes could still make out the tendrils of frost that wove in graceful patterns over the girl’s hands. Walking slowly so as not to attract attention from those below, Sahar joined her student. Elsa noticed her teacher’s presence, but said nothing, so Sahar laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Have you spoken with the village elders yet?”

Elsa shook her head. “No. I’ve sent them each messages explaining the situation and asking for their patience in this trying time.”

“It might be more helpful if you were to meet with them personally, to show that you yourself have taken an interest in their welfare.”

Elsa bit her lip. “I can’t,” she whispered softly. “I can’t bear to speak to them, to see their suffering and still put on a brave face. I don’t know what will happen to them now, not with the war imminent, and I’m certain there are some who blame me for their misery.”

Sahar frowned down at the villagers. “That may be true, but those people will soon learn. They would realize their mistake faster, though, if they had contact with you. If you would only—“

She stopped speaking abruptly. A strange silence had fallen, the entire congregation of refugees turning to look at a lone, redheaded figure who had appeared in the doorway. Princess Anna walked cheerfully in, nodding to those she passed and speaking to several. As she walked, a wave of calm seemed to pass over the room. People were smiling as they watched the vivacious princess joke with the adults and pass out sweets to the children. Sahar heard a choked noise and looked away from the strange sight to find that Elsa was crying. “What’s this, then?”

“They love her.” Elsa’s voice was muffled. “She can gain their trust just like that, while I can barely stand to look at them.”

Sahar took the young queen’s hand, carefully warming it in her own. “I will not deny that she inspires affection.”

“Why couldn’t she be their queen? There’s no doubt that they would follow her to the ends of the earth. With me they have nothing to go on: they don’t know whether to trust me or not, and I cannot possibly convince them.”

“You don’t have to convince them of anything – Anna is taking care of that for you. She is the public face you need, the people’s princess.” Sahar glanced down at the princess once more, who was now teaching half a dozen children to skip rope. “As for being queen, Anna does not have the head for it. She thinks with her heart, and does not stop to consider the consequences of her actions. It may be her that they love, but it’s you that they need.”

“They’ll hate me when they find out what I really am. They’ll fear me if they find out what I can do, and how will I ever rule them then?”

Sahar could tell that they were getting to the heart of the matter, the real reason why Elsa’s fists were clenched in her skirt and her brow was furrowed. “You don’t know that. It may be that they are grateful for a queen with strength to protect her people.” She took Elsa’s arm and tugged on it gently, so that the queen was forced to look away from the spectacle below. “I believe in your power to rule this kingdom with compassion and wisdom. I believe that you can overcome the challenges that face you, even the challenge of war.” Elsa looked as though she was about to speak, but Sahar held up a finger and she grew silent again. “You should look at Anna’s presence as a blessing, a distraction for those in need of comfort when they are so far from home. Do not be envious of her; rather, focus on your own strengths. Your people need you if they are ever to return home again. As much as they love Anna, she cannot save them. You can.”

Elsa nodded slowly. “I understand. I’ll do my best to protect them.”

Sahar smiled as she put an arm around her student’s shoulders. “I know you will. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to train you in the first place and why I’ve stayed with you for so long. I never would have done so if you were selfish, or unfeeling, or cruel.”

Elsa’s lips curved into a trembling smile. “Thank you. For staying, for supporting me, for trusting me: thank you.”

Sahar smiled in return. “You have work to do, though, if you want to keep that trust. I believe there are several messengers looking for you at this very moment, with news from your advisors.”

Elsa glanced down the corridor towards the conference chambers, and for a moment a hint of her old fear and worry flitted across her face, but she set her shoulders and walked purposefully down the hallway. Sahar was about to follow when she got the odd sense that she was being watched. She looked down over the gallery railing and for a split second her eyes met Anna’s. The princess quickly looked away and began talking to a village elder, but Sahar had a feeling the girl had seen most of her exchange with Elsa. She wondered what else Anna had seen. Perhaps she had underestimated the younger princess after all.


	17. Careless

“…and 15 larger vessels ready to sail with minimal crews. Four scouting vessels are still missing, as are the fastest of the messenger ships.”

Elsa listened to the Admiral Solberg’s report in silence, letting no expression cross her face. They were in what Elsa had mentally started calling the War Room, and a stack of reports lay on the desk in front of her. Despite their losses, it was true that Arandelle’s navy was well equipped to defend the kingdom. That said, the Southern Isles were rumored to have built a new type of warship capable of far greater destruction than ever before. Elsa was caught up in her own thoughts, and so missed the sound of raised voices until they were right outside the room. She stood abruptly as two men barged through the door, their faces red with anger. She recognized General Algren, though his uniform was rather dirtier than usual and stained with salt from the roads. He was glaring daggers at Fastred Hildebrand, whose expression radiated pure hatred. The spymaster was dressed plainly in solid black and had an aura of menace about him that shocked even Elsa. When he spoke, it came out as a growl. “200 left? How could you have possibly been so incompetent?”

“No one could have predicted a land invasion!” The General’s face was bright red with anger. “There hasn’t been one in centuries, how could I know to prepare for such a thing?”

“How could you know?” Fastred took a step closer to the General, who inadvertently leaned away. “Because I told you what was coming, that’s how! Weselton has an army on our borders and you are so vastly underprepared that we might as well be defended by peasants with pitchforks!”

“You are blowing things far out of proportion,” the General spluttered. “There is no proof that the Weselton Army has done anything of the kind, except the word of your ‘informants’ who, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, seem less than honorable and trustworthy.”

Elsa cleared her throat and, when the men paid her no heed, rapped sharply on the polished oak of the table. Startled, the men looked at her and the General hurriedly bowed. Fastred had not taken his eyes off the other man, and his mouth was curved into a grimace at once contemptuous and livid. Elsa felt it would be of more use to ask him to explain the matter than to listen to her red-faced General. Accordingly, she snapped her fingers to get her spymaster’s attention. “Fastred, explain the meaning of this.”

The General bristled. “Your Majesty, I assure you, it is nothing to be concerned over, it—“ 

Elsa held up a hand to silence him. “I did not ask you for your opinion on the matter. Fastred, tell me.”

The spymaster met her eyes at last. “My Lady, our ‘army’, if you can call it that, now consists of a thousand men equipped with only 200 weapons between them. It appears that, in the years since our last war the swords, bows, and arrows have laid, unattended, in a warehouse at the edge of the capital city. Even those still usable are badly in need of repair. The archers have suffered the greatest losses. Only those men with personal weapons of their own will be equipped to fight; all the reserve bows have grown too brittle to use.”

Elsa felt as though a weight had descended on upon her chest. She could not breathe, there was blackness on the edges of her vision, but she dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to remain focused. “Two hundred foot soldiers or cavalry, then. And how many do we face?”

Fastred’s voice was dry and detached. “Three thousand by land, at least.”

“You have no proof of that!” General Algren looked close to tears. “There is no proof, I tell you, that Weselton means to attack by land at all!”

Elsa and Fastred both turned to face the General, but before a word could be spoken there was a knock at the door. Fastred glanced at Elsa before striding over and opening it. In stumbled a messenger, his boots still damp with snow. “Your Majesty,” he panted, and immediately began to cough. Fastred took a flask from his belt and the young man drank greedily. Elsa watched him impatiently, afraid of what news he might bear. When the man had caught his breath she walked around the table to face him. “Tell me.”

The messenger took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, the Weselton Army has crossed the border at the northern pass. The town of Cerna has been burned to the ground, as have the villages of Grosane and Halborn. The army will be at our gates in three days time.”


	18. Regression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I'm SO sorry this has taken so long to post. Life got in the way. Luckily, I no longer have a life, so it ought to be finished soon. Here's 2 chapters in a row for you!

Word spread quickly of Weselton’s invasion; the news stirred up unrest among the villagers, who feared for the safety of their home villages. “What’s the good of surviving this war if we’ve got nowhere to go back to?”, Sahar heard one irate headman exclaim. The military, meanwhile, was collecting the names of those able-bodied citizens available to defend the city. The citizens of Arendelle were unaware of just how ill-equipped the army was as of yet, but Sahar knew that couldn’t last. Elsa and her commanders might have faced an all-out riot had it not been for the intervention of Princess Anna. The Princess used a combination of charm, naiveté, and humor to slowly gather support for the royal family. Sahar’s estimation of the girl rose each time she witnessed Anna break up an argument armed with nothing more than a laugh and a smile. The Princess was as valuable an asset, in her own way, as Admiral Solberg, and quite a bit more valuable than General Algren. 

Elsa, meanwhile, was missing from the preparations. Queen Lisanne informed the commanders that her daughter was indisposed, a statement that sparked muttered rumors throughout the castle. Sahar in particular was concerned about her pupil; it was unlike Elsa to disappear so suddenly when her people obviously needed help. After two days of absolute silence, Sahar decided it was time to act. 

She waited until the dinner hour, when Elsa usually had a tray of food delivered to whatever room she was working in at that moment. Brushing aside the objections of the serving maid, Sahar commandeered the tray and headed up the stairs to Elsa’s bedroom. She rapped softly on the door and waited for a response. Sure enough, the door opened a minute later to reveal Elsa, dressed plainly in a deep blue skirt and white blouse, her hair in a braid down her back. When the young queen saw Sahar her eyes widened and she attempted to shut the door, but the woman blocked it with her foot and leaned against it until Elsa had no choice but to give up and let her in. Sahar walked to the girl’s desk and laid the tray down, then turned to survey her student. Elsa looked even paler than usual, and Sahar could tell she’d been crying. Motioning for the girl to sit on the bed, Sahar settled herself onto the chair by the desk. “It is time you explained to me exactly what is going on here. One moment you are capably ruling a troubled nation, the next you are a recluse. Now is not the time for such whims.”

Elsa’s chin jutted out defiantly and she glared weakly at Sahar. “I’m not a recluse! I just…I…” her voice trailed off and she looked away, shoulders sagging. “I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” Sahar asked, though she thought she knew.

“I can’t let people know about me. About my magic. I can’t let Anna know, I have to protect her from this curse.”

Sahar stared at Elsa in shock. “Curse? What on earth has gotten into you? After all these months of training, of learning control and expanding the scope of your powers, you talk of curses and begin locking yourself away?” Elsa still would not meet her gaze and Sahar’s eyes narrowed. “Something has happened. Tell me – I’ll find out anyway.”

Elsa shook her head. “Nothing has happened,” she whispered. “I just…remembered who and what I am. I remembered the duty I have to those I love.”

“And your duty to your people?”

Elsa didn’t respond. A single tear traced its way down her cheek, freezing as it fell to the floor. Sahar stood suddenly, a calculating look on her face. “If you refuse to save your own subjects from certain death, there is nothing more for me to do here. Goodbye, Elsa.”

She strode out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Her last sight was of Elsa’s wide, horrified eyes. As Sahar leaned against the closed door, she heard the young queen begin to sob.


	19. Lisanne

Sahar wandered through the castle aimlessly, barely paying attention to where she was going. Her mind was still with Elsa: what had gotten into the girl? She hadn’t seen that awful, defeated look in Elsa’s eyes since before the King had died. After all the work Elsa had done to learn control, to accept her power as an integral part of who she was, it was entirely out of character for her to deny her magic in that way. 

Her wanderings led her through the gallery, and she stopped to survey the refugees below. Guards were still taking the names of those willing to fight. One grim-faced young father gave his name even as his two crying children clung to him. In an instant, Princess Anna was at his side. She knelt by the children and spoke to them quietly, halting their tears, then looked up at the father reassuringly. Sahar watched with interest as that singular wave of calm spread out around the Princess. Elsa’s need to hide her power came from the idea of protecting Anna from the truth, but why would such objections resurface now? Without knowing it, Sahar's feet led her back up the corridor towards Elsa’s room once more. As she turned the corner and caught a glimpse of Elsa’s door she froze. Another figure, taller than Elsa, was leaving the room. Sahar quickly ducked out of sight. She peered out in time to see the figure disappear down another corridor, but even at a distance there was something unmistakable about the figure’s posture and bearing. Sahar suddenly had an idea as to what had caused such an abrupt change in Elsa, and she set out after the mysterious figure, walking silently with the ease of long practice. 

She listened for movement before turning each corner. The figure had left the residence and was headed to what was still referred to as the “King’s Study”. Sahar waited until she heard the study door close before stepping from concealment and walking down the corridor to stand in front of the imposing oak door. She considered knocking, but decided against it. Reaching out, she turned the brass handle and marched purposefully into the room. The figure was bent over the desk, but straightened upon hearing Sahar come in. Grey-blue eyes flashed in the reflected light of the candles; pale skin contrasted with dark brown hair on which a tiny crown rested. Sahar smiled mirthlessly as she surveyed the woman. “Good evening, your Majesty.”

Queen Lisanne seemed disconcerted by Sahar’s sudden entrance, but hid it well. “Good evening, Sahar. Is there some sort of problem?”

Sahar gazed at her calmly. “There is, your Majesty. A rather complex one. But then, I’m sure you already know that.”

The Queen turned away. “Well, I know there is unrest among the people, and that—“

“What have you said to Elsa?” Sahar interrupted.

Queen Lisanne looked shocked. “I…I don’t know what you’re—“

“Why has she gone into hiding? Why is she suddenly afraid of her own powers, afraid of what she can do?”

Sahar knew she was being rude, but didn’t care. She noticed that though Lisanne’s face remained calm, one fist was clenched in the fabric of her long green skirt. The Queen took a deep breath. “Elsa’s decisions are her own. Whatever she chooses, I’m sure it is for the best.”

“It most certainly is not for the best.” Sahar replied bluntly. “Without Elsa’s powers this kingdom will be overrun in a day’s time. She is the only hope, if Arendelle is to avoid utter annihilation.”

The Queen’s eye had grown hard as Sahar had spoken. Now she stared at the old woman coldly. “And if she loses control and freezes everything in sight?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?” the Queen’s voice rose. “How could you possible know what my daughter will do once she starts doing that magic? It’s dangerous to even be around her when her powers break free.”

“Elsa is no longer a child.” Sahar’s tone was calm, but her eyes blazed. “She has worked hard to control her magic, and has succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations. She is capable of greatness, both as a ruler and a mage, but she cannot succeed at either if she is constantly hiding who she is.”

The Queen shook her head firmly. “I will not allow my daughter’s abnormality to become public knowledge. I will never allow her to be known as a ‘Witch Queen’, and I cannot allow Anna to, to—“

“To what?” Sahar asked. “To know her sister’s real nature? To grasp why she and Elsa have been forced apart for so long?”

“You don’t understand.” To Sahar’s shock Lisanne’s eyes filled with tears. “Anna is all I have left. I nearly lost her once, thanks to Elsa’s power. You cannot know what it is like to hold a child in your arms and feel her ice-cold skin against yours. My Anna must be kept safe from that, that accursed magic!”

Sahar looked at the Queen in disgust and was about to reply when she heard a tiny knock on the door. Both women turned to look at it, each realizing just how loud their argument had been. “Come in,” called the Queen, hastily brushing away her tears. The door swung open to reveal Anna, her green eyes wide and her freckles standing out against her pale skin. She entered hesitantly and dipped a curtsy to her mother. “Mama. I’m sorry to interrupt, I—“ She glanced at Sahar, then back to her mother. “I heard what you were saying. About Elsa, I mean.”

The Queen looked horrified. “Anna, you shouldn’t have listened, you weren’t meant to hear such things.”

“I know,” Anna blushed, “I’m just sort of used to eavesdropping by this point.”

“That’s a very rude habit.” Queen Lisanne drew herself up to her full height. “I would have hoped you’d have outgrown such tendencies.”

“But Mama, I had to eavesdrop if I was ever to learn what was going on!” Anna looked at Sahar and the old woman smiled. She’d occasionally seen a small figure duck out of sight as she and Elsa had left their classroom, and spotted a flash of red hair at the keyhole of Elsa’s study. It was only natural for Anna to be curious about her mysterious older sister. She motioned for Anna to continue speaking, and Anna took a deep breath. “I—well, I sort of spied on Elsa. You don’t understand,” she raced on, before the Queen could interrupt, “I wouldn’t have spied on her, only I never saw her around the castle and I missed her and…well, yeah. I missed her.” Anna sighed. “We were friends, and then suddenly we weren’t. I had to learn why.”

“And what did you learn?” Lisanne’s voice was resigned.

“I learned Elsa has magic,” Anna replied, and Lisanne winced. “I learned Sahar has magic too, and has been teaching Elsa to get more control of her magic. I learned Elsa is afraid to show me her magic, afraid she’ll hurt me. But I know she won’t.”

Lisanne walked to her daughter and ran a gentle finger over the white streak in Anna’s hair. “She already has hurt you. She could have killed you when you were a child.”

“But she didn’t.” Anna smiled and took her mother’s hand. “Elsa would never try and hurt me. I know that much for certain. I trust her. And I think she can help Arendelle. Those villagers, they can’t fight trained soldiers and they know it. If Elsa can save even one life with her magic, then she should.”

Lisanne could take no more. She clutched Anna to her and began to cry. Sahar knew the battle was won, and silently excused herself. By morning, Elsa would be willing to use her magic once more. Anna would see to that.


End file.
